


Sands of Time

by Gabrieldiedforoursins



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Drama, Eventual Smut, M/M, Multi, blahdiblahdiblah, standard game violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-01
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-13 13:01:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 3,745
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10514280
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gabrieldiedforoursins/pseuds/Gabrieldiedforoursins
Summary: The Iron Bull is reallllly not having it. Nope. All this freaky shit can stop.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is going to be one of my first multichaptered works. As Always, I'm unbeta'd, so all mistakes are mine. Please leave a kudos and a comment :) Constructive crit is welcome <3

__  


_I watched the world float to the dark side of the moon_

 

A huge fucking hole.

Fucking giant flowing green thing in the sky.

The Iron Bull stared at the rift, a grimace on his face. This couldn’t be good. It would never be good. Whenever something freaky happened, something magic freaky, it was never good. So, naturally, he picked up his ax, and rallied the troops.

\---

A hole in the sky wasn’t enough for the world, apparently? Why would it be? No self-respecting hole in the sky would leave it at that and not add demons. So now there were demons rampant, along with the continuing issues of mages versus templars, not to mention good old-fashioned thugs. At least business for the Chargers was about to be good. And if what people were saying was true, Bull and his company had a good shot at getting picked up by the new found Inquisition. He hoped it was true, he prided himself on being able to suss out bullshit.

 

“Krem!” His voice carried across the camp easily, and his lieutenant looked up at him with a mouth full of roasted ram.

 

“Wha’?”

 

“Need you to head to Haven. Tell that new Inquisitor, Harold or whatever his name is-”

 

“Herald, chief, just another title.”

 

“Right, well, tell him that The Chargers are for hire if he wants us.” Bull watched as Krem rolled his eyes before protesting. Well, not protesting so much as he was questioning. The kid had already accepted the order when he responded.

 

“Why not go yourself? Or one of the others?” Krem got out between mouthfuls.

 

“You got one of those faces. All dashing and stuff. Get the Inquisitor to fall for a handsome in armor before showing him the beast, eh?” Bull would go himself, but he found that people could find him unsettling at a first glance. He heard that the Inquisitor was a Dalish kid who happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, he didn’t want to scare him with too much at once. Besides, Krem gave off that air of safe and protected, while being conventionally handsome at the same time. He’d be trusted. Krem looked at Bull like he wasn’t quite sure, but nodded his head.

 

“Fine, Chief. You’re lucky I like you. And who knows, maybe I’ll end up getting some decent drink while I’m there too.” Krem doubted it, but a merc could hope.

\---

It was about a week’s ride from where the Chargers had set up camp to Haven, and it was another week before The Iron Bull got a letter saying that Inquisitor Sialan Lavellan would be heading out to meet them during their Storm Coast job. The Lieutenant arrived shortly after, looking a little better off for having been in Haven, apparently a handsome Templar had made the stay all that much more enjoyable. When pressed more about who, Krem just grinned.

 

“Lets just say that the Champion’s younger brother should have been the star of the show.”

 

Bull whistled and clapped Krem on the back as they worked through getting the camp packed up and ready to go.

\---

Rain fell down around them, gravel crunching under their feet as they fought against a group of zealots and marksmen. Fucking ‘Vints, always looking for an excuse to be dicks. He kept an eye on his men, thankful that there weren’t any mages in the group they were taking down. There was enough of that shit going on in the sky without having to deal with magic coming at him from the front. The Iron Bull was getting ready to cleave one of the Tevinter assholes in half before they could loose an arrow at his boys when he felt a wash of magic cover him and his men. The. Fuck.

 

“Dalish! Was that you?!” He yelled out, only to notice, no, no it wasn’t one of her ‘arrows’. She was busy firing, well, fire, at one of the zealots. It seemed to be a barrier, which, hey, as long as the other guys didn’t have it, he was alright enough with it. He couldn’t afford to spend more time at the moment dwelling on it, and he took down another of the ‘vints.

\---

The answer to who cast the barriers was, ironically enough, a Dalish. A Dalish in some decidedly Qunari style armor, which threw the Bull for a loop at first glance, but a Dalish elf nonetheless. The elf seemed to hold no reservations in approaching the large Qunari, so that was reassuring. And he hadn’t left the crew to suffer while he watched, another plus. Then there was the fact of his own libido, which, seeing a lovely little redhead in some well-tied knots? Bull cleared his mind and became the professional which the Inquisitor was going to expect.

 

“So, you’ve seen my boys, and you can tell that we’re good. What do you say?” Bull watched the man, well, boy, really. This elf looked young, mid-twenties at the latest. He pondered it for a moment, appraising both Bull and the others with a few sweeps of his eyes, and then nodded.

 

“You’re hired.”

 

“Don’t you want to know how much, or who you’re getting?” Bull raised his eyebrow. The elf just shrugged.

 

“You’re The Iron Bull, the man you sent to ask us about hiring you, was Krem. And I’m Sialan Lavellan. I don’t think there’s too much else to worry about?” Sialan smiled a little sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “Besides. I’m only around for the glowy green shit on my hand. I’m gonna need all the help I can get.”

 

Wasn’t that the truth. He could tell that this was a chance game. There wasn’t a guaranteed win in the end, there wasn’t a certain future.

 

“That may be true, kid, but you should always know who you’re getting. It’ll keep you alive longer.” The Iron Bull tapped the side of his nose. “Come on, let's talk.”

\---


	2. Chapter 2

_I knew it had to be something to do with you_

 

The elf, Sialan, took the fact that he was a ben-hassrath fairly well. Of course, there was the bit of natural caution, but not as much as many others would have had. Either this guy had seen some shit, or he just had one of those guts. Either way, The Iron Bull was thankful. His boys were getting hired, and there was someone with a good head on his shoulders helping to head this Inquisition. After their talk, Bull grinned, shouting down the beach.

 

“Time to pack up! The Chargers just got hired!” It didn’t take much for a voice like his to carry, but he shouted just the same, and he was met with the tired but happy shouts of his troops. Mostly. Krem was fixing him with quite the stink eye.

 

“Now, what’s that look for, Krem-puff? Thought you’d be happy, get back to Haven, see that man of yours.”

 

“First of all, he’s not my man. Second of all, we just opened the casks of booze!”

 

“And?”

 

“With axes!” There was a hint of desperation in Krem’s voice, and Bull just chuckled.

 

“You’ll find a way to seal them up, come on, we’ve got one hell of a trek ahead of us,” Krem grumbled but had a small smile on his face as he went back to round up the rest of the crew. Rocky and Grim were the first to gripe, but other than that it was smooth sailing.

\---

“So, Boss. Where are we headed? Thought we were going back to Haven?” They’d been riding for a while, and if Bull’s maps were right, they most certainly weren’t headed toward Haven. It was more of a route to Redcliffe, though he didn’t know why.

 

“Redcliffe,” Damn. “I’m supposed to be meeting with the Grand Enchanter, work with the mages.” Sialan looked proud, a smile on his face. “It’ll be good being around more like me.”

 

More magic? The Iron Bull should have realized that this was going to be a magic heavy job, what with the demons pouring out of the asscrack in the sky. Speaking of demons…

 

   Sialan let out a yell as he vaulted off his horse, pulling the staff from his back as he charged at the bit of floating green, casting spell after spell as if his life depended on it. Which, Bull supposed, it did. He got off his own mount and joined in the fray of fighters. Cassandra has wasted no time charging in, and Sera hung back, picking off some of the smaller baddies with her bow. Fucking demons. Each strike that he got in sprayed black ichor over himself and his weapons, though he wasn’t as bad off as the Herald. The elf was one hell of a spitfire, taking to freezing the bad guys then setting them on fire. The end result, in a curious way that would have pleased Rocky, was an explosion of guts, giving him enough time to raise the hand that pulsed with the same green energy, and seal the rift. With a crackle of light and a loud pop, it closed, and the elf collapsed to the ground, panting. It seemed the fight had taken a little more out of him than Bull thought. The Herald was a strong fighter, trained, calculated, but just a little messy.  He made his way over to the fallen elf and held out a hand.

 

“Come on, up you go.” He grinned, and let out a little snort at the disdainful look that he got in return.

 

“I’m not five. But thanks,” Sialan placed his hand in Bull’s and let himself get pulled up. “Fucking rifts. Too fucking many of them if you ask me. Why do I have to be the only one with the fucking mark to close em? Couldn’t split it up?” He huffed, swiping a hand through his blood splattered hair.

 

“Cus, the world damn well doesn’t want to make things easy. But you’re tough. You got this.” Sometimes words of encouragement were what people needed to hear. And it seemed to do the trick because Bull was soon rewarded with a bright smile and a wink.

 

“Want to see just how much I got?” That pulled a deep laugh from the Qunari, and he shook his head.

 

“Maybe once we get cleaned up and you’re not about to drop. No fun fucking a rag doll.” It was Sialan’s turn to laugh, though it was cut short by Sera gagging.

 

“Too much sausage for breakfast. Can’t we just keep goin’?” She pulled some of her salvageable arrows from the corpses, cleaning the tips and sticking them back in the quiver. Cassandra nodded.

 

“Getting out of the area quickly would be wise. Our battle was far from silent. And meeting with Grand Enchanter Fiona is of high importance.” The group nodded, and remounted, putting distance between them and the bodies.

\---

   The rest of the trek to Redcliffe was fairly standard. Bandits, bears, small game, time magic. The usual. Did he mention time magic? The Iron Bull had just enough of magic and it causing things to go all fucky. He was thankful for barriers, liked the fact that Sialan could cast a fireball and catch some outlaws on fire, but this. This annoyed him. Scared him a bit too. Cassandra, while they were fighting outside the gates, had managed to get into a section of warped time, moving slower, in it. She got out just fine, but the group was thoroughly disturbed by the events.

 

“Hey, elfy pants! What is this shite?!” Sera had called out, choosing to hang back while the others were figuring out what was going on. Sialan shrugged his shoulders.

 

“It seems like someone has been messing with something bigger than themselves.” Not that he had room to talk. Before getting sent to the conclave, the poor elf had nearly gotten himself kidnapped. A four to one fight, a seventeen-year-old against a group of slavers? It wasn’t going to go well. By some sort of dumb luck, it had.   

 

“Well Boss, Let's get in there. I’m sure there’s a reason for this?” Bull scratched at his arms. The amount of magic being used in this place was giving him bumps.

\---


	3. Chapter 3

_ I really don’t mind what happens now and then _

 

Time magic was officially one of the highest ranking things on The Iron Bull’s ‘do not fucking like’ list. It was trippy, it was weird, and if what happened at Redcliffe was any indication, something that should never,  _ ever _ , be messed with.

\---

They had gotten their easy enough, and the meeting with the Grand Enchanter had been borderline bizarre. 

 

“What do you mean you can’t negotiate with me now? You came to see me when we were in Val Royeaux!”

 

“It is as I said. I am indentured to Gereon Alexius. My say has no authority now.” Grand Enchanter Fiona looked at him, wringing her hands slightly, but looking more resigned than anything. Sialan was growing frustrated. 

 

“Then let me talk to someone who does have the authority. I’m out here as it is. I’m not leaving without some sort of negotiation.” The elf crossed his arms.

 

“Well, it’s a good thing I’m here, now isn’t it?” A new voice, one that sounded decidedly ‘vinty cut through the air, and Bull stiffened, eyes narrowed. He knew that this man had to be Alexius.  A Tevinter magister. Something worse than a ‘vint? A ‘vint with  _ power. _ Sialan however...Sialan was handling this with a surprising amount of grace. The negotiations were calculated, and it seemed like the Herald could play The Game after all. Maker only knew where he got that from.

The negotiations were cut short though, when a young man fell into the Herald’s arms. Bull raised his brow, and Sialan held the man up, before straightening him out, and looking to the magister, whose face had gone from one of cold indifference to one of utter concern.

 

“Pardon me, but I need to take my son back to his rooms. Felix, how could you risk this?” Alexius grabbed his son and walked him out of the room, looking every inch the overprotective and worried parent. The man, Felix, looked ill. It, however, didn’t escape Bull’s notice that something had passed between Sialan and the magister’s son. Once father and son were out of sight and out of earshot, the Herald opened his fist, revealing a sheet of crumpled paper. 

 

“Oo, what’s that? Love notes?” Sera grinned, watching eagerly as Lavellan read it.

 

“Nothing of the sort, but it does seem to be important. Says to meet him at the chantry.”  He hummed, folding it back up and passing it to Bull. “What are your thoughts, Bull?” The Qunari read the note for himself, taking in the hurried writing, the underlines, everything that would hint at it being authentic and not a trap. He nodded his head. 

 

“It seems legit, Boss. We should go see what he wants.” It was Sialan’s turn to nod.

 

“Then off we go.”

\---

On opening the door, the party was bathed in the green light of another rift, and Bull let out an exasperated groan. Sialan eyed him, before heading inside, cautious though, as there was already someone else there battling the demons.

 

“Ah! Inquisitor! How kind of you to join me! If you could be a dear and close this, that’d be much welcomed.” The man’s voice carried through the din, and Bull cocked his head. Another vint...and a mage to boot. He gripped his axe a little bit tighter, watching the man as Sialan held out his hand to seal the rift, panting a little after it winked out of existence. After clearing the room, the new mage stood, brushing off his robes, as if gore and guts would easily be shed like dust.

 

“So...how does that work, exactly?” The mage gestured to Sialan’s hand. When no answer was readily given, he tilted his head back and laughed. The Iron Bull, as guarded as he was, couldn’t help but follow the line of the man’s throat.  
“You..You don’t know, do you? You just wave your hand and hope for the best!” He laughed a little more, before wiping an imaginary tear from under a kohl lined eye. “Pardon..pardon. My name is Dorian Pavus, I see you got the note.”

 

“I did indeed, though it wasn’t you I was expecting to meet here. It was from some man named-”

 

“Felix, yes, I know. He’s darling, helping me with this after all these years, especially given..Well, it’s no matter. Inquisitor, I have much to speak to you about, and far too little time to speak it.”

\---

So Magister Alexius was using time magic. Experimental bullshit. And all of it to serve an Elder one? The Iron Bull had enough. It was stupid. He felt for the guy, he did, wanting to save his son, but how could he believe that something proclaiming itself a god would actually help? And this whole meeting was going to be a trap. Sialan had snarked off at that, and Bull actually chuckled.

 

“He’s doing all of this for me? How sweet. And here I didn’t get him anything.” The Herald looked more irritated than anything. Dorian seemed to appreciate the humor as well, and shook his head.

 

“Just send him a fruit basket, everyone enjoys those.”  Oh, Bull liked this one. There was a bite under all the pretty glamour.

 

Soon enough though, the group had to depart. The discoveries that had been made needed to be discussed with Leliana and the likes. The entire ordeal felt off to Bull, and not just because of the time magic.  Alexius seemed shady, Felix as someone who looked like they were going to drop at any moment, and Dorian. Well. Bull never trusted ‘Vints with the exception of Krem. Even if the mage had helped them with a rift, and had given them valuable information, didn’t mean that there wasn’t even more important knowledge in that pretty head of his that he was withholding.

\---

Back at Haven, discussions were tense. There was support for the mages, support for the templars, and more than a few unkind words tossed around both parties.

 

“This...breach. It comes from magic, and magic should be able to close it right? Mages make more sense!” Sialan was making a good case to the advisors, but Cullen wasn’t having it.

 

“The templars can mitigate the magic though! Do we really need more rampant magic when it’s doing such a dangerous thing already? What could the mages not make worse in this situation?” He got an icy glare from Sialan. 

 

“It may have escaped your notice, but I am a mage. I got thrown into this situation, and I say we side with the mages.” He turned to storm out, irritated.

\---


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for how short this was. The idea just didn't want to come out, and then I got caught up in a different story. And I'd rather post something short that I'm alright with, than something long that i'm not proud of.
> 
> As always, unbeta'd.

_ As long as you’ll be my friend in the end _

 

It seemed to be a recurring mantra. Fuck time magic, fuck magic in general. It didn’t spell anything but bad news, and Bull had just enough of it. Of course, he didn’t really have the option of saying ‘no fucking thanks’ to magic when Alexius had mages embed evil looking red crystals into his skin. He didn’t get a ‘I’d rather not’, when he was tortured and warped and thrown into a cell. There hadn’t been an opt out of seeing Sialan tortured and executed for daring to oppose the Elder One and Alexius. So here he was, stuck in his head, feeling himself starting to lose it, starting to slip, with nothing but an old drinking song and chaos brewing in his skull.

\---

“Ninety-nine bottles of beer on the wall, ninety-nine bottles of beer. Take one down, pass it around….” 

 

He could feel the thrum of lyrium in his skin, feel the red seeping further along. It had already crystallized in a few places. Little clusters jutted out from his shoulders and the base of his horns. It made him paranoid, crazy. The Iron Bull wondered if this was what it was like to go Tal-Vashoth. If this is what all those other qunari felt when they were sent out of the Qun. Finally hearing footsteps, Bull tilted his head. He knew that weight. Well, of one of the sets anyways. If he didn’t know better, he would have said it was Sialan. But that wasn’t possible, was it? Not unless the Venatori had come back to torture him some more. 

The steps grew closer, and he frowned. There was a second set, and those were less familiar. Both pairs were coming towards his cell in a hurry though, and he looked up finally when he heard his name shouted with panic flavoring the tone.

 

“Bull! Oh, fuck, Bull!”

 

Well. He’d be damned. That was Sialan running at the cell and picking it open.  It was the plucky little redhead. And it seemed to be real, not an illusion used to torture him. The other set of steps had belonged to the human, Dorian. That was a surprise.

 

“Dorian, we have to get him out. What is this shit?” The cell door had swung open, leaving The Iron Bull free to leave. He took a few heavy steps forward, shaking his head a little.

 

 

“Kid..You’re dead. How the fuck are you here?”

 

 

“Dead? What do you mean dead?” Lavellan had froze, looking at the red crystals that were littering Bull’s skin.

 

 

“I mean I saw you get torn to shreds, tortured and killed for a good long time.” That had been the first step to breaking the spirits of the Inquisition and the world. An icon that people had been proclaiming a herald, an Inquisitor sent to save them, destroyed, crushed everyone. 

 

 

“Who else is here? Is everyone else alright?” The elf had moved to walk with Dorian, leaving Bull to follow them as they inspected other cells in the same room.

 

 

“I’m not sure who all is left, but the whole gang pretty much got taken in.”

 

 

Dorian swore, running a hand through his hair. Shame that the man was messing his own hair up. It would have been fun to mess it up another way. But that was a thought of a year ago. Now. Now Bull just wanted to get these two interlopers safe, so they could prevent this.

\---


End file.
